


oh, the things you (allow me to) do

by andthencoffee (yawawoo)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Innuendo, Kisses, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sulky Johnny uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawawoo/pseuds/andthencoffee
Summary: Donghyuck watches as Youngho sulkily scrubs bloodstains on his shirt. The older man is pissed, and that's terrifying, but Donghyuck wouldn't be here if he was someone who gave up easily.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	oh, the things you (allow me to) do

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and veryyy self indulgent :D
> 
> Also the spies and secret agent tag is only there to provide some ~background~ ;)

Donghyuck notices that the calendar hanging on the wall opposite him is of last year’s October. There's faded notes about some delivery and Xuxi's, Yuta's and Sicheng's birthdays. He wonders why he just noticed that _now_ while he’s been sitting on the exact same spot for so many times in the past two years. 

Donghyuck thinks of calling this a routine, if not for several significant differences that follow his occurrence here, like, for example, the bullet wound on his upper arm. He doesn’t always have a pulsing flesh wound on his body, although the reason he’s here is always the same: to sit and enjoy the view as a topless Youngho washes away the blood stains on both their outfits of the day. Maybe it’s a routine after all, though Donghyuck does _try_ not to get shot all the time.

Today, Youngho is diligently trying to brush half-dried blood on his own shirt. Donghyuck’s blood. It got to the left breast of Youngho’s pristine white shirt when he had to help Donghyuck walk after almost passing out from blood loss earlier. They didn’t exactly have time to patch themselves up as the building behind them burned and made worrying exploding noises.

While Youngho's shirt made it, albeit with stains, Donghyuck’s own shirt has long since been discarded as soon as they entered their car. It was then one of those rare nights where Youngho purposefully scared people with his driving. (Donghyuck most likely has been the one who finds himself on the passenger side far more often than anyone else, but it still terrifies him every time.)

By now, Donghyuck knows that Youngho’s excessive scrubbing is more a manifestation of his disapproval towards Donghyuck’s carelessness rather than an actual effort to get the stain out. Donghyuck watches as big, scarred fingers get swallowed up in pinkish suds, the veins on the back of his hands popping from how hard Youngho is gripping the used toothbrush he is using.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck says, his voice a bit too loud in the cramped laundry-slash-changing room. He looks away from Youngho’s fingers to look at his face. Youngho’s back is half to him, but Donghyuck can still see the reflection of his hunched figure in the mirror above the sink. 

Youngho looks—there's a slight frown marring his face, but the rest of his features are otherwise carefully blank and cold. And that's _scary_ , because Donghyuck has never really been on the receiving end of that look. It's Youngho's face when they're out in the field, cold and expressionless, his hooded eyes dark and icy.

After all this time Youngho has never really gotten mad at Donghyuck, and Donghyuck isn't shameless enough to deny that he gets away with a lot of things, with Youngho, with his job, in the organization. Youngho is always quick to bounce back to his laid-back and playful self, and when Donghyuck is infuriating Youngho just dives in for tickles and kisses to shut him up. Or he would squeeze the life of Donghyuck, trapping him in a headlock that allows him to kiss Donghyuck's temple.

Youngho always maintains contact, be it a fleeting touch or a possessive grip or a fond gaze. This time he's not even looking at Donghyuck. And that makes Donghyuck’s whole body ache and tingle with something like dread. But also a… curiosity. Something new he has to solve.

And only when Donghyuck starts thinking that he’s being ignored, Youngho answers. “What?”

Donghyuck mulls over his next words, listening to the flow of water from the tap and the squeaking noises you make when you’re trying to wash away stains. “You’re going to put a hole on your shirt.”

Youngho doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He applies more detergent and another drop of stain-removing liquid. “Doyoung said you shouldn’t overexert yourself for the next 24 hours.”

“Talking isn’t gonna kill me, hyung, jeez,” Donghyuck scoffs, playing it brave for now, but halfway in trying to fold his arms on his bare chest, he stops and winces. He averts his eyes when he notices Youngho is shooting him an unnecessarily pointed look from the mirror. 

“But going against orders is, apparently,” Youngho says, without inflection. If it were someone else, they’ll think Youngho isn’t showing any emotion in his voice. But really, Donghyuck knows better. He hears every drop of sarcasm in that.

Donghyuck sighs, shifting a little on the thinning cushion of the chair he occupies. He almost lifts his right hand to smooth away the curls falling into his eyes. He listens to the sound of Youngho’s scrubbing, the faint chatter outside their little room, wondering if he’ll ever hear anything but his fellow agents going about their day in the HQ. If the lights would flicker and notify them of Intruders . Donghyuck doubts that as much as he doubts Youngho letting him off the hook soon, though. 

Well, unless he tries to make amends.

Youngho stubbornly stays focused on his task at hand, spreading the wet fabric to inspect it under the light, trying to see if there’s any discoloration left. He slowly drops his hands into the sink when Donghyuck walks up behind him and peers over his shoulder. 

“Youngho-hyung,” Donghyuck says, butting his forehead softly to the space between his shoulder blades. His skin smells strongly of smoke—of burning buildings and flesh and lingering ammo—but still, Donghyuck can always make out the mild, heady scent of freshly ground coffee. “Hyung, it’s just a flesh wound.”

From his position, Donghyuck can clearly see the way Youngho’s bare shoulders tense slightly. Donghyuck hugs him nonetheless, or tries to, his injury preventing him from looping his arms around Youngho in a proper hey-I’m-glad-I’m-alive-and-here-with-you hug. Youngho still doesn’t say nor do anything.

Donghyuck kisses the skin where he's been resting his head, up to the taller sharp shoulder blade, the crook between his shoulder and neck, the soft hairs on his nape back of his ear, down to his nape, standing up on tiptoes in order to reach the spot under his ear.

In the silence, Youngho’s sharp inhale is audible as Donghyuck stays where he is, keeping his lips pressed to the particularly sensitive patch of skin. Youngho hunches forward as if running from the touch, and Donghyuck almost feels hurt. But Youngho only leans forward to rest his hands on the sink, hanging his head and letting out a long sigh.

“Sorry for making you worry,” Donghyuck says as he rests his cheek on Youngho's wide, wide back, licking the tempting skin as an afterthought. Prickles come to greet him.

“I know what you're doing,” Youngho says, voice infused with exasperation, mask finally breaking, though Donghyuck doesn’t have the privilege to see the face he’s making. 

Earlier, Youngho had been almost hysterical when he recovered from the intentional fall to save Donghyuck from getting shot in the head. His eyes were haunted when he caught sight of blood oozing from Donghyuck’s arm. Donghyuck was _so_ terrified, he’ll always be, when he witnessed raw, unbridled emotion contorting Youngho’s face. “You are using dirty tricks to make me forgive you.”

Donghyuck straightens up, fitting his chin over Youngho's shoulder, looking at their familiar reflection in the mirror, liking how Youngho just dwarfs him and how Donghyuck's smaller body fits the slopes and crevices of his bigger body, even from behind. 

Despite his carefully blank expression—huh, he’s gotten his composure back—Youngho is now leaning back to him, shoulders a defeated slump. Donghyuck grins at the older man’s expression in the reflection, and pinches one dusky nipple, delighting at the way Youngho winces before his face morphs into an unamused deadpan. Donghyuck’s hand gets smacked but he latches on that defined pectoral again, rubbing to chase the pain away. “Your forgiveness is a crucial thing, hyung. I have to make sure I have it every time I fuck up.”

“You didn’t fuck up. You're just being an idiot. I have yet to find a way to stop you from being an idiot while scouring targets. Outside of that, I’ll gladly accept your idiocy. We all know you have plenty of that.”

“That's not all that I have plenty of though,” Donghyuck teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively to Youngho's reflection.

With his uninjured hand, Donghyuck turns Youngho bodily to face him. It shouldn't be possible, but Youngho allows it to happen. That makes Donghyuck wonder of all the other things his lover has allowed to happen when it comes to him.

Donghyuck realizes that he’s glad Youngho has let go of the sopping wet shirt he was abusing earlier, otherwise their crotches, which are conveniently pressed to each other, would have become damp from it. “Let me just say this once but I think you're silly for worrying too much.”

Donghyuck swears mentally when Youngho’s face shuts down a little at that. Youngho moves his eyes heavenwards, closing them as his lips thinned. _Really, Hyuck? You’re blaming me for that?_

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. Gosh, hyung. Just forgive me already. Please? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try not to do it again,” Donghyuck quickly says, trying not to sound too whiny to let Youngho know that he _means_ it. Youngho’s expression is so cold now that he’d do literally anything to make it go away.

Youngho finally drops the act—was it really one?—and finally graces Donghyuck with a miniscule smile that has a chorus of sounds scream _'Hot! Hot! Hot!_ inside Donghyuck’s head. Youngho shakes his head, dark hair swaying softly, and reaches up with dry hands that smell like laundry products to pull Donghyuck up into a soft kiss. 

Lightheaded from the relief that washes his entire being, Donghyuck worms his way into the taller man’s mouth, tongue moving in broad swipes into Youngho’s mouth and against his hard palate. Youngho bites him a little, probably to scold Donghyuck for attacking his sensitive areas and getting too carried away after pulling such a stunt, but it was playful. 

Soon their lips are caught in a deep kiss that conveys the previously suppressed stress from close-calls. Taeyong did warn them before that their mission today would be more dangerous than usual. But Donghyuck has a hard time remembering their boss when he’s got an armful of boyfriend running his big, deadly hands all over his back, pushing their hips closer.

Only when Donghyuck returns to his previous sitting position with a petulant pout—from the lack of anything to do, because Youngho remembers that he still has to wash the remaining parts of their suit and won’t budge into a longer make out session—Donghyuck says more to himself, “Definitely making this a routine.”

Youngho only smacks his wound lightly to remind him not to make getting hurt like this a routine, but he kisses the aching spot after and smiles his usual goofy smile at Donghyuck.

"What am I even supposed to do if I'm not allowed to overexert myself for the next 24-hour?" Donghyuck wonders out loud as he spies Youngho's backside, wrapped in tight black briefs and bent as the man stuffs their clothes into the dryer.

Youngho straightens and turns, leaning back on the washing machine and crossing his arms on his chest. He looks like he's entirely enjoying Donghyuck's suffering from blue balls. 

"Well, you can reflect on your stupid stunt earlier..." the man says. He unfurls his arms and leans back, looking at Donghyuck straight in the eye as he stretches his mile-long legs and defined torso. "And think of all the things we can't do when you're injured like this."

"I'm never getting injured again. _If_ I can help it."

" _Good_."

**Author's Note:**

> I love!! Sulky Johnny okay!!


End file.
